Bad Moon Rising
by totalgeek13
Summary: AU. Sam and Dean are on a case after Nightmare when they meet another hunter. When they find out that she has information about their missing Dad, the boys have to make tough decisions on how to carry on with hunting
1. Prologue

**A/N- Hi this is my first fanfic so I am just trying to get an idea out of my head that I have had for awhile and have some fun with it. This story does not begin at S1:E1 like a lot of other fanfics. This one being between S1:E14 Nightmare and S1:E15 The Benders. Enjoy!**

**Disclamer: I do not own any parts of the story or the characters**

Off of I-90 at a shabby motel, Sam couldn't sleep again, Max was still weighing on his mind. It was the middle of the night, Dean was in the next bed snoring. Sam browsed through page after page of news articles looking for their next job. Right before dawn he shoved his brother who gave a disgruntled moan.

"Dean, hey, I've found us another job. About two hours away in Wisconsin."

"Dude, you realize it's not even five o'clock yet? Did you even sleep?"

"No, but anyways, get this. Dodgeville, a small town a 12 year old boy goes missing and 3 days later is found near the state park."

Dean rolled his eyes and flopped back down on his pillow, "No offense Sammy, but that really doesn't sound like our kind of thing."

"I didn't think so at first either but four days later a 21 year old goes missing from her parent's house, no signs of forced entry, everything is still locked up. That was two nights ago."

"What are you thinking, why did you flag the boy?"

"I was digging and this same cycle happens every 31 years. First a 12 year old, then a 21 year old, followed by a 40 year old."

"Strange shit happens all the time Sammy that doesn't make it a hunt."

"I don't know but we have gone on less."

"Alright let's pack up and get going."

Dean and Sam packed their bags into the trunk of the black '67 Chevy Impala on top of the arsenal. And they drove reaching Dodgeville before eight, parking in front of the police station. Before they could even get out of the Impala, four squad cars came screaming out of the station, sirens blaring. Sam looked at Dean, "How much do you want to bet that's the girl?"

"Dammit", was all he replied as he pulled the Impala after them to the Southeast corner of town. Sure enough when they arrived they could see the body lying in the grass. They got out and approach the officer who was barking orders to get the crime scene closed off.

"How can I help you boys?"

Pulling out their badges Dean replied, "Morning, I'm Agent Angus and this is Agent Young from the FBI. Could you tell us what's going on here?"

"I'm Sheriff Anderson, neighbors called in the body about half an hour ago, the girl disappeared two, no, three days ago. It's such a shame; she was an outstanding athlete, played basketball and softball for Wisconsin State. Nice girl, good student. No offense but you boys move awfully quick, considering we just found out about this ourselves."

It was Sam's turn to speak up," We actually came about the boy last week; it may match some other cases we still have open. This body's autopsy could confirm it."

"Do you boys think it's a serial killer?"

Dean jumped in, "We can't disclose any information until we are positive that these are connected."

Anderson nodded, "Well you boys let me know if I…"

"Sheriff Anderson! Sheriff…"

The Sheriff shook his head, "Oh, for the love of God… Yes Miss Ulrich? What can I do for your today?"

Dean and Sam turned around; a young woman with unruly brown hair tied back and glasses was addressing the sheriff. She wore a cheap business suit and was clutching a pad with a pen and a recorder that she kept fumbling with.

"Could I get an official statement on what is happening here?" She looked at him eagerly.

"Like I told you before ma'am I can't disclose official police business. I can tell you that this is Amy Liene, who disappeared last week."

"The 21 year old that disappeared with the doors locked. Is there any connection between her and the Snyder boy?"

"As I have already told you, I cannot and will not disclose any information relating to an ongoing investigation."

"Well if there is no connection, why is the FBI here?"

Dean chuckled, she didn't miss a thing and it was enough to through the good Sheriff off his game.

"My patience is wearing very thin with you Miss Ulrich."

"That's fine Sheriff, I am done with you for now." She nodded, "Agents."

With that she turned on her heels and strutted up the small hill to the road, her shoes sinking in the grass. Dean watched her walk about halfway before Sam noticed and elbowed him in the stomach.

Anderson shook his head again, "That reported showed up about a week ago, right when that Tommy Snyder was found up by the state park. She has been a thorn in my side ever since, harassing the townspeople with crazy questions, being at the library from open to close, chasing me from one side of town to the other with questions about that boy and some old cold cases."

Sam snorted and smirked, "We will meet the body back at the morgue, give us a call when the autopsy is finished. Thank you for your time."

With that the boys turned back to the Impala. Dean then turned to Sam...

"I still don't know Sammy, spirits don't just haunt more than one place and there are no demonic omens, maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all. Normal people do crazy shit all the time."

"No Dean, this is defiantly our kind of thing. Did you hear about the questions that reporter was asking?"

"Sammy, I don't know about hearing anything, she was hot. Like a hot, nerdy librarian way." He smiled and bit his bottom lip.

"Dude, you are confusing reality and porn again. Look again."

With that Sam pointed up the road a little ways. The reporter was taking notes sitting on the hood of a canary yellow 69' Camaro SS with a black racing strip.

"And she has fantastic taste in cars."

"Dean, big time reporters drive BMW's, Mercedes, and those kinds of cars. A reporter like her could probably barley afford to run a Jetta or a Malibu around."

"Once again, great taste in classic cars."

"Dean! Who drives old cars, and asks questions about old cold cases? Not a reporter that wants to keep her job. Did you even listen to her name?"

"Ulrich, like the drummer from Metallica… Oh. You think she is a hunter? You can't be serious; she could barely handle a pen and paper. Could you see her digging up a grave or shooting a gun?"

"I don't know but I think she is defiantly involved with this case somehow."

"Well then you can follow her and I will go to the coroner's office and see if I can figure out what killed Amy and Tommy. Take the car; I will catch a ride with one of the five-o."

Dean walked back over to the police and Sam slid into the driver's seat of the Impala and waited. He watched "Miss Ulrich" walk to her trunk, rummage through some stuff. Then she got into her driver's seat, tossed her glasses aside and raced off. Sam pulled the Impala out behind her.


	2. Ms Ulrich

_**A/N: These first couple of chapters are going to switch points of view until we understand what is going on and why. I will eventually come back and rewrite them because I don't want to accidently give anything away. Later, starting with Chapter 5, it will just be from one character's point of view. Thank you again for reading.**_

"**Ms. Ulrich's" (Reporter's) POV**

I sat on the couch at the Starlight Motel, staring at the pictures on the wall, chewing on the back of a pen. This case had me stumped; no monster or ghost I had heard of, or hunted, could kill like this. If these murders didn't occur every 31 years for almost as far back as the town's records I would have just chalked it up to some crazy serial killer. I needed help, opening my phone I called his number again, and just like the last dozen or so times, straight to voicemail…

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If it's an emergency, call my son Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

"You son of a bitch." I yelled out loud. The Liene girl had disappeared two nights ago, at any moment the police were going to find her body. Since I had started hunting four years ago John had never ignored my calls, especially when I got into shit this deep. The police radio on the table began to chirp.

"All available units, just called in. Unidentified female found on the south end of town. Dead on scene."

"Shit"

I quickly dressed into the business suit that I had "bought" on the way here. I pulled my curly brown hair into a tie and put a pair of glasses on. Pretending to be a reporter usually wasn't usually my thing but I figured an FBI agent showing up in town the morning of a single murder of a young boy would rouse some suspicion. I did one final check in the mirror.

My reflection stared back. I'm stocky, wide hips and wide shoulders. Dad always told me I was built to work; my unfeminine muscles and dark tan skin was a testament to years working at farms, and now hunting. This, was in direct contradiction to my face. High cheekbones sat blow my eyes that were brown ringed with bright green. Like the rest of myself there was something that was strong yet soft about them. At 20 years old I had thrown a potential future away because I could not sit and do nothing once I started seeing all the people that were dying. I couldn't not hunt especially after a hunter saved me and my sister.

_Keep running was all I could think. Save Maggie, get her out. But this psycho kept coming after us even after I put two bullets in his chest; his buddy was nowhere to be seen. Crashing through the cornfield, I could hear the footsteps behind me, the laughing. Concentrating so hard on pulling my 12 year old sister behind me as we came out of the field, I ran headlong into a person standing on the road and let out a shriek, hands clamped down on me and I fought hard."_

"_Get down, God dammit."_

_It was the FBI agent who had come to town after the fifth murder. I hit the pavement and pulled Maggie down with me. In the dark I saw him throw water on the man as he came out of the corn. His eyes went black and he smoked. The FBI agent pulled him into the trunk of that Impala that he drove off, leaving us on the road._

Drinking my coffee, I drove to the south eastern part of town and saw the lights from the cops' cars. I pulled the Camaro alongside the shoulder and pulled my ID and business card out of the glove compartment along with my pen and paper. Looking up I saw it, _the_ Impala. John must have got my messages, must be here to help. I scanned the crowd for him, my breath caught.

_I drove around town looking for that damn Impala. After what I saw last night there was no way in hell this guy was an FBI agent, we hadn't even been asked for an official statement and I shot the guy twice. I saw that car sitting at the second of the only two motels in town. I walked straight up to the door and knocked; as the door cracked I pushed my way in._

"_What the hell?"_

"_Who are you? There is no way you are FBI. And what was that thing last night?"_

"_What are you talking about miss. I apprehended a suspect and am now pursuing his partner."_

"_Bull-shit. I put two deer slugs in him and he didn't even slow down. What the hell is going on?"_

_I stood toe to toe with him, not backing down. He had the audacity to smirk at me._

"_Fine. Have it your way, I don't have time for this shit. My name is John Winchester, that thing last night was a demon. I threw Holy water on it and exorcised it last night. Monsters are real, ghosts are real, and everything that makes girls like you feel safe is a lie. People like me hunt things like that."_

_I pondered on this for a moment. I knew in my heart before my brain even processed it that I owed a debt. And every debt must be paid._

"_Show me how."_

"_How to do what." He was annoyed, voice raising, hands becoming more animated._

"_Hunt like that, fight monsters, save people."_

"_Absolutely not. You don't know the first thing. This isn't a day care and I am not your babysitter."_

_I stared back at him, determined, "Show me how to or I will just figure it out on my own. I need to do this."_

_Snorting, John said to me, "You're a ballsy little shit, aren't you. What's your name?"_

"_Jennifer Wesson"._

Sam and Dean Winchester were talking to Sheriff Anderson. This was it, everything John had told me, everything that I knew was about to begin. I looked again in the rearview mirror, 'you can do this' I told myself. I stepped out as well as I could and walked to where the Sheriff was speaking to them. I had to let them on to me without confronting them, just like John had told me, it has to be their decision.

"Sheriff Anderson! Sheriff…"

He turned to the Winchesters, probably grumbling about me, "Yes Miss Ulrich? What can I do for your today?"

Be professional, and don't stare at them, "Could I get an official statement on what is happening here?"

"Like I told you before ma'am I can't disclose official police business. I can tell you that this is Amy Liene, who disappeared last week."

"The 21 year old that disappeared with the doors locked. Is there any connection between her and the Snyder boy?"

Of course there is no connection that he can see. This town's good Sheriff couldn't have been bothered to look back a few years in the town's records.

"As I have already told you, I cannot and will not disclose any information relating to an ongoing investigation."

All right you little shit, let's see what your smart answer is for this…

"Well if there is no connection, why is the FBI here?"

Dean almost choked, trying to contain his amusement, and the good sheriff looked like someone took a big old shit in his morning Wheaties.

"My patience is wearing very thin with you Miss Ulrich."

"That's fine Sheriff, I am done with you for now."

Looking over at Sam and Dean I nodded, "Agents", and turned away. Hopefully it had been enough. I really needed help and at this point I am not too picky on who I get it from. I reached my car, sat on the hood and closed my eyes…

"_Uff", I grunted as I drug the struggling body into the empty house we had found, "How the hell do you carry bodies around all the time without getting caught?"_

"_It's a gift, nah, just kidding. It is a combination of watching your back, finding secluded locations, and making sure you are not being watched."_

_We tied the demon to the chair inside the devil's trap that John showed me how to make, teaching me that once inside, the demon becomes powerless and unable to leave._

"_So now that he is all tied up all we have to do is exorcise him? Does it get rid of it permanently?"_

"_No, it sends it back to Hell, and with any luck it will be a few hundred years before it claws its way back out again. Here," he handed me the journal he carried with him, "read it, you will see."_

_With a deep breath began to read, "__Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_ _omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,_ _omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"_

_The demon was shrieking, his eyes black, yelling incoherently, "John Winchester, you know about your little Sammy don't you. How your wife really burnt up on that ceiling…"_

_John threw Holy water on it and it screamed again, "Finish it Jen.."_

"_Ergo, draco tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire,te rogamus, audi nos."_

_With that black smoke rose from its mouth and burned through the ground. The man it had been possessing was dead. We got in the car and John was driving me home._

_He handed me a stack of papers, "This is a copy of most of the stuff in my journal. Everything I know about monsters is in there. Do not go picking fights if you don't have to until you get your sea legs, you hear me?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_You can call me anytime on a hunt if you get in a jam or you bit off more than you can chew, I will help if I can."_

_I nodded and he handed me two more things, "This is a picture of my boys, Dean and Sam. This isn't going to make a lick of sense now but you are going to meet them some day. Jen, you cannot let them know who you are or that you know me until they approach you. That is very important do you understand?"_

"_I don't let them know who I am until they approach me. Why?"_

"_It needs to be their decision or they will second guess themselves. They need you as much as you need them. I wasn't sure before but your destinies are intertwined. You have to memorize that photo. When they approach you give them that envelope. It has instructions from me for them. Do not open it, give it to Dean."_

_And wiith that we parted ways._


	3. The First Case

**A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading. This chapter I had a lot of trouble with and I will probably rewrite it at a later time. But there are little aspects that I knew would be important to future chapters and I feel I need to move on with this story. The biggest problem is that I know where I want to go with this story I am just unsure how to get there. So, good luck and thank you again for reading.**

Opening my eyes again I knew Dean would believe me, I could feel it, I had to get him that envelope like John had told me. I watched them, pretending to be engulfed in my notes. They were talking to each other and when Sam jutted his head towards my car and Dean slowly looked. I knew they suspected me. Dean proceeded to head toward the Sheriff and Sam went to the Impala, shit. This was not going to go at all like I have planned. I went to the trunk and out of my small arsenal I pulled a few "supplies" out and into my bag including my favorite, a Colt M1911A1 that was nickel plated, similar the one an old friend had had the last time I saw him. The gun was honestly a little big for me, but you couldn't beat it for knock down power and initial intimidation factor in a hand gun. I also threw in "old faithful", a Winchester 870 that had been my dad's. I had grown up deer hunting with it and had graduated it to this style of hunting. The thing was the most reliable gun I had ever owned. I slid in, threw my glasses to the side for good measure and squealed the tires as I raced off, the Impala trailing behind.

I drove the ten miles to the Starlight Motel, never deviating from my route, acting like I had no idea in the slightest that I was being tailed. Why couldn't Dean have gotten into that car; it would have made my life so much easier. I pulled right up to room number 4, grabbed my bag and proceeded in like nothing was amiss. The Impala slid into the parking spot by the office and just as I walked into my room, Sam went into the office. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, my skin was crawling. The vibes I got told me that this was not going to end well.

...********************************************************************************************************************************-

Sam followed the Camaro the entire way to the hotel, staying a few cars back for good measure, but the driver never seemed to notice that she was being followed. When she arrived at the Starlight Motel, he pulled into the parking lot and drove straight to the office. He watched as she grabbed her bag, and walked into her room, number 4. He checked into a room for the next week, and thanked the man behind the desk.

"You're the second this week to check in for that long mister, we don't get much business like that out here. That reporter in the Camaro is here for another week and she has been here since that boy died… You said you are FBI?"

"Yeah, my partner should be in later today."

"Well good luck to you, this town is in a panic over this. That kind of stuff just doesn't happen in small towns like this."

"We will do our best sir."

"Well I put you in room 10, just don't destroy anything and let me know if you'll be needing anything else."

He flipped open his phone to call Dean and it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey I'm at the Starlight Motel, we are in ten, she is in four. Found out she checked in right before they found the boy's body, she is defiantly involved or knows something. I'm going to check it out."

Sam went to the window outside of four, the curtains were half pulled, the room dark, except for a light in the bathroom, the shower was running. He picked the lock and slowly, quietly opened the door, gun drawn. Stepping inside he could see clearly the table of files, newspaper articles and notes on these cases and dozens of others. Pinned to the wall were numbers and crime scene photos that were drawn and scribbled one. Another step inside, he heard a grunt. He turned in time to see a shotgun heading for his face. Everything went black.

Slowly coming out of it, the world was fuzzy. Trying to move his arms Sam suddenly felt trapped. He was tied and handcuffed to a chair. From the shadows a voice came…

"You aren't going to be able to get out of those. They are pretty much hunter proof. I already patted you down, there is nothing left you can pick or cut any of it with."

"What do you want?"

"Help on this case. To give you and your brother information that you need to know."

"You have a funny way of asking for help."

She snorted and stood up from a crouching position, "Trust me, this is the only way. You wouldn't listen otherwise."

Moving the curtains, Sam watched her as she looked outside, "You and your brother would never trust another hunter or work with one you didn't know. I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be right now."

Sam thought it was strange how truly remorseful her voice sounded.

Jen knew at this point it was only a waiting game until Dean showed up. She hated to do this to Sam, but it was necessary to get their attention.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

"Where the hell is he?"

Dean was in number 10 of the Starlight Motel, the Impala was parked out front. Where in the hell was Sammy? Looking out the window, he scanned the parking lot. Something was wrong, 4 was awful dark for a car being parked out front.

"Son of a bitch."

Moving along side of motel walls he tried to catch a glimpse inside of 4, but the curtains were drawn. He began to pick the lock and drew his gun, slamming inside the room. In front of him he saw Sammy and that reporter with an 870 shotgun pointed at his little brothers head.

"Put it down you crazy bitch."

"Listen to me Dean we can talk this out, your brother came in here the same way and look what happened to him. I don't want to hurt you or him."

"Hurt me? That's cute."

He cocked the safety on his gun, aiming for the headshot.

"Dean, you better make it count. You are quick, but I have a shotgun, the spread at this range will kill Sam. It would be a hell of a lot easier if you would just put it down."

"I don't give in that easy. You first."

"Alright"

He was shocked when she lowered the shotgun and faced him, staring at him, waiting, watching. He pulled the gun up, resetting the hammer and stuck it in the back of his pants. She smirked, watching him. An odd thought occurred to him.

"How do you know who we are?"

She grabbed something off the table beside her and tossed him a leather bound binder that he caught.

"Does that look familiar?"

Inside it were photo copies of the journal that Dean had on the inside of his jacket. A copy of his father's journal.

"How did you get this?"

"Your dad gave it to me about four years ago, he taught me how to hunt and about everything I know has come from that journal. He told me you two were the best hunters around and that if I ever got into a jam, you two would be just about the best I could hope for."

It was Dean's turn to smirk. She began untying Sam who at this point in time was thoroughly confused and pissed off.

"Sorry about that, but I needed to get your guys' attention, and the odds were kind of bad for me. You know, two to one."

"My dad never mentioned you."

"I'm sure he didn't for a reason, but anyways I was told to give this to you."

She held an envelope in her hand, Dean reached for it and she pulled it back and over her shoulder.

"Nope. You help me on this case, I give this to you. Call it an insurance policy. Deal?"

"Like you said before, we don't work with other hunters." Sam chimed in.

Jen turned to Sam head cocked, biting the inside of her cheek, controlling herself before she snapped.

"Last time I checked Sam, your dad was missing. He gave this to me to give to you guys. This could be your only chance at finding him."

Dean looked at her, jaw clenching, "We help you with this case and the second it's done that envelope is in my possession."

"Of course." She held out her hand. He grabbed it and they shook.

"My name is Jen by the way."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Thirty minutes later she had them run through most of the details. Both were still suspicious of her, but had relaxed considerably once they had slid back into the rhythm of the job. Plus she put them at ease, her instincts were solid and Jen knew her stuff. Even Sam was impressed at the amount of information she had dug up on her own. Jen walked to the fridge and grabbed three beers. Dean took his and popped the top off, hell it was five o'clock somewhere.

"So now it is a matter of finding out who he is."

Sam shook his head, "Jen, spirits don't move like that, they are attached to a place."

"Not if it were attached to some particular object. It wouldn't matter then."

Dean nodded, "Like the hook man a few months back, he was attached to the silver, remember?"

Jen pushed her hair back, "I'm telling you I have been through this pattern back to the mid-1800s where it begins. It doesn't fit any monster pattern or any ritualistic sacrifice for lower gods that I can find. And I have been trying cross reference the years before the first deaths with 31 year olds but I can't find what I am looking for."

Sam looked over everything on the wall again. "How do you know who you're looking for when no one has seen anything and there is no local lore? What do you have these numbers tied to?"

"That's how I figured out what I am looking for. The ages of the victims, 12, 21 and 40. They are all biblically significant numbers."

Both gave her dumbfounded looks. Jen responded by rolling her eyes.

" Twelve, like the apostles. Twenty-one, a lot of significant prophecies made add or make twenty one in some form, there are twenty-one chapters of revelation that contain horrific violence. Forty, like the forty days Jesus spent in the desert, the forty years Moses spent leading the Israelites to safety. There are always three deaths like the trinity. They always disappear seven days apart; God created the earth in seven days, there are seven holy sacraments, etcetera. They always are found three days after they disappear, 'and on the third day Jesus rose again', blah, blah. "

Dean snorted, "That could just be a coincidence."

"That's what I thought at first too. But all the numbers are biblically significant. Not just some of them. So I figured we are looking for a priest that died in the mid-1800s, at 31, violently, probably lynched. After all accidents don't just happen."

It was Sam's turn to question her, "What makes you say that? You couldn't possibly have gotten that from just the numbers."

"I have good instincts", Jen replied indignantly, "Plus, it is the first killing. It is always a twelve year old boy. The other two's gender vary. So that one is more significant which is why I say priest, not reverend."

Dean shook his head in disgust, "That's disgusting. You put all this together on your own in four days?"

"I had been looking for a new case, trying to find patterns before they started again. This one caught my eye and I tried to get here on time but didn't make it. Now I am trying to play catch up."

Sam snorted, "So we are looking for a needle in a stack of needles according to you. Great."

"Take it easy Sammy; she's doing a decent job for being by herself. Don't be a girl just because she took down your ass and tied you to a chair."

"I'm going to go back to the room to grab my laptop."

Sam stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Is he always bitchy like that?"

"You did tie him to a chair. Nah, he's a good kid but he doesn't play well with other hunters."

"You want another beer?"

"Now that I wouldn't say no to."

Jen grabbed two more beers from the fridge, handed Dean one and she sat on the couch adjacent to him.

"I don't understand. I know it is a spirit. But I have been through every damn death record, birth record, and every freaking cemetery in this town and I can't find a person who matches this."

"Now this may be out there, but have you considered that you might be wrong?"

"I'm not. Unfortunately, when it comes to weird, I am never wrong."

Dean watched her eyes jump from paper to paper on the wall.

"Well then let's figure out who this asshole is."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

**Jen's POV**

Hours later we were still sitting in silence. Sam was focused on his laptop, Dean was going through old newspapers, and I was going through more records that I had lifted from the town hall. My vision was starting to blur from being up so long.

Dean's hands slammed on the table, making me jump.

"Yahtzee!"

Sam spoke up, "You got something?"

"Why the hell else would I say Yahtzee? Yes I've got something. Jen was right. There isn't a death record, but there is an article in a newspaper from 1881 about a Father Gregory becoming the head of the local church after the abrupt departure of a Father Adams. The weird thing is that in no preceding articles did it mention that Father Adams was leaving. He just fell off the face of the earth. And guess what Adams was? Wait for it...31 years old."

I nodded, "Back then the church would have just wanted the problem to go away. So whatever happened to Adams wasn't documented and just swept under the rug. My best guess is he was probably lynched and burned once the boy's family found what was happening to him."

Sam finally chimed in, "So it is an object. Fantastic."

I smiled, my couple classes in religious history may not have been so much of a waist.

"I know what it is. You guys are going to love this. It is the cross that the priests wear. They used to stay with the parish. Especially if the previous one died."

Sam smiled back, "That explains how it gets around town, wherever the priest goes Adams goes with him. If he is a vengeful spirit Adams could be possessing the priests."

Dean joined in, "So every 31 years the ghost wakes up and takes the priest on a joyride to take revenge on the type of people who killed him."

"Sounds like we need to track down a crucifix."

Sam looked at me, "No offense Jen, but how are you going to get a thing that a priest wears at all times? It's not like you can just walk up to him and pull it off his neck."

"Watch and learn boys."

I walked out of the room and to the trunk of the Camaro. Now where did I put it, ah yes. I pulled out the pack of animal tranquilizers that I kept with all my other "miscellaneous" liquids. As I turned around Dean and Sam were watching me from the door.

"So are you guys getting in or am I riding with you?"

Dean walked over to the car.

"You do realize you have a pretty sweet ride, 69, right?"

"Yep, did all the work on it myself, I pulled it out of a junk yard a few years ago."

Singer Auto to be exact, but they didn't need to know that right now. We pilled in and my radio was blasting, turning it down Dean spoke from the passenger's seat…

"You like Quiet Riot? "

"Hells yeah" I winked, "You bitching? Cause driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie hole."

He chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it. I just had you more pegged as a Spice Girls, pop, hip hop person."

"Yeah, when hell freezes over. The closest I get to anything modern is some country when I get bored. Anyways when we get to the church the goal is for you guys to talk to the priest. I will take care of the rest."

Thirty minutes later Dean and Sam were talking to the priest inside the church. I was making my way up the balcony where the choir would be at. I could hear their muffled conversation below.

"Well I am glad your family is considering joining our little parish."

You guys are so full of shit. Just keep him talking for a few more minutes, please. I could see them now and I aimed the gun at the priest's neck. In, out, in. Dean caught the movement of the gun out of the corner of his eye and the look he gave me was startled and it clearly asked 'what the hell I thought I was doing'. Out. I pulled the trigger and the dart landed right in the jugular and he dropped like a sack of shit.

"What in the hell?", Sam was checking for the priest's pulse, Looking around and finally spotted me. I blew on the barrel, raised my eyebrows and chuckled. Dean laughed, Sam was clearly not amused.

"Was that at all necessary, the last thing he is going to remember is us talking to him and he is going to think we stole it."

"Well technically we are going to steal it." I replied as I climbed down the stairs.

"She has a point, Sammy, it might not be our normal tactics, but the job is getting done."

I joined them on the floor of the church and ripped the chain off the priest's neck. When my hand touched the chain I could see my breath.

"Ah, hell."

"Son of a bitch."

I was tossed across the room and my head hit a pew, the wood splintered and embedded into my shoulder. The boys were thrown in the other direction. Above the body stood a figure of a man with charred clothing and skin that had melted and burned.

"JEN! You got it?" Dean yelled.

"Yeah."

"Well get rid of it now."

I jumped up and started running for the front where a torch was burning, grabbing the salt container from my jacket pocket. Halfway to the front something jerked my ankles backwards and I fell face first onto the stone. I groaned turning, the ghost was on top of me grabbing my neck. Where his hands touched my skin burned. The edges of my vison were starting to go black and my hands searched for something to help. Nothing. I kept grasping, hoping, then salt passed through the ghost and Dean was standing above me.

"Thanks" I choked.

He grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, "Don't mention it."

Sam had caught up and grabbed the crucifix from the floor. It was getting cold again and the lights were flickering wildly. Shit was flying off the walls.

"How about we give the good father a proper sendoff Sammy?"

Sam threw the crucifix into the fire with the salt. Adams was walking up the aisle at us now. His edges smoldering.

"Sammy, you want to hurry that up a little bit?"

Adams grabbed Dean but there was nothing left to defend him with. Sam and I grasped at the ghost, but both of us got tossed across the room again, but this time my back collided with the alter. Adams edges started to burn, he screamed, and then he was gone. Dean got up, beat up, but okay.

"Well that was just tons of fun. Remind me not to ever do that again."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Back at the Starlight all three of them were getting cleaned up and tending to their wounds. Sam probably had a minor concussion and bruises as did Dean. Jen had a nasty cut to her shoulder but she wrapped it up and called it a day. Both her and Dean shared the same strangulation marks that Adams' victims had. After she cleaned herself up and packed she knocked on the door to ten. Dean answered.

"I believe this belongs to you." She handed him the envelope.

Dean looked her up and down again. Battered and bruised she still maintained composer, a mark of a true hunter, you didn't let the job ever get to you.

"Thanks." He smiled, "You mean to tell me you have never opened this."

"Dean, I have had that for four years, since the day your father gave it to me, and I have never opened it. Sure I was curious, but he told me not to and to make sure that you got it when I saw you and Sam. I respect him enough to do what he asked"

"How did you meet my dad?"

"Let's just say that he saved my life and that is a big part of the reason I hunt."

"My dad, Sammy and me have saved a lot of people and they don't just become hunters Jen. This life isn't for normal people."

"I can't sit by and watch stuff happen that I know I can change. And who the hell said I am normal? As serial killerish as it sounds, I love it in its own twisted, screwed up way. And you can't say it is without its perks." She gestured towards her car.

"I guess so. Hey, if you ever need any help Sam and I are a phone call away, alright?"

"Sure, see you around Dean."

He watched her cross the parking lot and go back into four. Jen was a hell of a woman, fearless and different. Dean couldn't put his finger on it. She was a hunter like she had said. He had seen it when that ghost attacked her, Jen hadn't panicked. It was old hat for her, it was fun. Closing the door he looked at the envelope. It was plain but aged.

"What do you think dad put in it?"

"I have no idea but we are about to find out."

Dean ripped the seal and read the content. All five words.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

**Jen's POV**

I was doing a last check of the room to leave. I don't know what I had expected but I, everything, felt wrong. Like I was supposed to do something else, like something still had to happen before I left town. So I did what anyone would do and switched on the TV. Just as I was about to sit, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it, "Dean? What is it?". He had clearly just sprinted the parking lot.

"You have never seen what was inside this envelope?", He was stern, walking towards me, holding it up, "You have no idea what it says?"

I backed in the room but held my ground, Sam burst in seconds later.

"I told you I have never seen what was inside. Why would I lie?"

"What did my dad tell you when he gave this to you? Answer me goddammit."

"He told me it had to be your decision. That's it. What the hell is your problem?"

He searched my face for a while and calmed.

"Nothing. I'm sorry."

He walked past me into the room and looked at the wall a bit. I looked at Sam but he appeared just as confused as me. But that empty feeling had begun to leave my gut. Something changed. After minuets Dean finally broke the silence.

"Hey Jen? What do you say you hit the road with us?"

After his little outburst that had been the last thing I expected, "What?"

"Yeah", he rubbed the back of his neck, "it's not safe for hunters alone, and plus maybe cause you knew dad you could help us find him."

Sam jumped forward, "Dean, aren't we going to talk about this, we don't…"

Dean cut him off mid thought, "What do you say Jen? We could use the extra help."

I thought for a moment, a smile crept across my lips.

"Yes."


	4. Making Ends Meet

**A/N= Thank you again for reading. There is a note at the bottom awaiting you once you are done with this chapter.**

**Jen's POV**

The engine of the Impala cutting off and the door opening woke me from sleep. Dean jumped out of the front seat and started pumping gas. It had been two days since we left Dodgeville and all we had done was drive around northern Wisconsin and into Minnesota, trying to get ahold of a hunt, but nothing was turning up. It had been a lot of quiet miles with a ton of research that hadn't given us anything. Sam turned to the back.

"You want anything from inside?"

I shook my head, "I am going to get out anyway, I have been sitting way too long."

I walked into the station to grab a coffee and a Reese's, my favorite. While I paid with cash I saw Sam talking with Dean, he was frustrated. I knew Dean asking me to come along had put tension between them. As I walked out Sam ended the conversation, and confirmed what I had thought, they had indeed been talking about me.

Dean rolled his eyes, "We are going to stop at the next motel and hit up a local bar, we could all use a shower and a good nights sleep."

"Sounds good to me."

We drove for a good 60 miles before we hit another motel. Though they hadn't spoken much the last two days, and these next miles were covered in total and complete silence. The place we pulled into was shabby like all the other motels I had stayed in, straight out of the 70s and not updated since probably about the same time.

I hopped out of the car as soon as the Impala stopped. "I got this."

I walked up to the office and the man behind the desk greeted me, "Hi there, what can I do for you?"

"Two rooms please. One night for now"

He gave me the price and I handed him a credit card with God knows whose name.

"Thank you ma'am."

I headed back out to the car and tossed Sam one set of the keys and grabbed my bag out of the trunk. I was frustrated and tired, all I wanted was a shower. More than that; I was done with Sam's pissy mood.

Dean yelled after me as I headed off, "We are heading out around 7. A.I.S"

"Okay."

By 6:30 I had my shower, was ready to go, and had marathoned way too many Law & Order episodes on USA. Checking my phone I figured I could head over to their room. They had had plenty of time to cool off and settle down. I slipped on my heeled boots with short tops and checked in the mirror a final time. The cloths I wore were the perfect amount of revealing. Skinny jeans that were skin-tight and a shirt that accented curves without showing too much. The make-up was flawless and simple. I had done this way too many times, after all hunting didn't pay well. Not paying for my drinks while hustling pool, darts, and poker made my life a shit ton easier. Men missed a lot when they were looking else-where.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Dean was done with Sam's pissy attitude, he had been being a bitch all afternoon. Sammy would never understand that Dad's orders needed followed, even if the order was cryptic. And as soon as Sam quit he would start-up the same argument again.

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man, Dean."

"That's enough Sam, Dad gave me an order and we are following it."

"To what? Bring along a girl, a hunter, that we have never met. Just because she says that she knows Dad?"

"Yes!"

"Then why won't you show me that piece of paper, Dean? What is so secret about it?"

"Because it was for me, if it had been for you Dad would have told Jen to give it to you."

"What the hell man, are you that hard up for tail that you use that letter as an excuse to bring a stranger along?"

"Dammit Sam that's enough. That is not what this is about. If anyone other than Dad had given this to us, you would have given two shits less, and you know it."

There was a pause, Sam knew he had crossed the line. Dean never disobeyed Dad, ever. He watched Dean chew the inside of his cheek, he was pissed, and had had enough.

"Sorry man."

Dean exhaled and snorted, "No chick flick moments."

A knock on the door startled them both, Dean reached for his gun at first, but then he saw the time,

"She's early, but I guess it's time to go."

He opened the door and did a double take, 'holy hell' was all he could think to himself. He had noticed that Jen had this girl next door thing about her, but this was different. She was, well, kinda sexy. Jen looked him up and down and smirked.

"Are we going to go or are you going to stand there all day like an idiot?"

Dean shook himself out of his small daydream, "Yeah we are going, Sammy! Let's go!"

They piled into the Impala, heading for the nearest bar. Dean watched her through the rearview mirror...

"Sam and me usually pull a lot of cash at these bars in the middle of nowhere. Hustling poker and pool mostly. This isn't social hour. This is work so that we can work."

"I'm disappointed in you, Dean. You think I would dress like this just to sit at a bar? Apparently you have never hustled a bar with a woman or been a totally asshole before." She giggled and smiled knowingly.

Sam laughed, Dean raised his eyebrows, confused, "What am I missing?"

Sam turned, "She plays them. Flirts, probably fairly innocently at first and then the more they drink more aggressively. Then she takes her, well take, and then walks away. Am I right?"

Jen nodded, "Basically."

"So let me get this straight," Dean looked back at her, "while your playing tonsil hockey and dry humping outside the bathroom, you take the poor guy's wallet and he doesn't even get to third? That's cold. You work all night to get one wallet?"

"It's a science, I can get more than one usually, plus hustle some darts or pool. It doesn't work with just anyone. You have to pick a guy that keeps cash on hand that you can get drunk quick, and then send home. It is easiest with guys that think they are all that or guys that aren't used to getting attention, that are shy. The only problem is if the bartender is watching and decides to be an asshole. And before you judge, I don't do it to just anyone."

A few hours after arriving at the bar Dean had scored a few hundred bucks at pool and Sam was just talking to locals, playing along with Dean, telling him to slow down on the drinking. They both knew very well that Dean could drink the entire bar and not be as shit faced as some of these people where by 10 o'clock.

Dean kept looking over at Jen. She had fumbled around the bar for the first few hours, talking, laughing and drinking until she had one and sat next to this asshole that had been loud all damn night, and had bought her a few. They had been doing shots for awhile now. Dean just shook his head and continued to play pool.

Thirty minutes later Dean headed to take a piss and walked down the little hall, that guy had Jen shoved up against the wall on his way in, pushing her upwards. The guy was wasted, groping her in all the wrong places and just plain down right clumsy with her. It kind of pissed him off, he had only known Jen for a few days, but he knew she deserved better than that. On the way out they bumped into him as they headed into the bathroom.

"Sam, I think you were wrong about one thing. She sure as hell lets them get past second base."

Just as he said that Jen came running out of the hall, flustered and right to the bartender. Sam could just get snippets of what they were talking about.

"I don't know what happened, he just passed out."

The bartender headed back the dank little hall.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

**Jen's POV**

I picked the guy out before I even made it into the bar. Parked in the lot was a brand new Challenger, as we passed it I noticed how impeccable the front seat was, but the tell-tale bachelor backseat, junk strewn around. So, obsessed about appearances but doesn't have someone around to keep him clean. The Challenger was tricked out, so money was obvious. Probably late twenties more likely early thirties. That age and single, annoying person, probably huge ego, womanizer. I smelt huge compensation. I shouldn't have to work too hard. Beautiful.

We walked in, the boys headed straight to a table and ordered some drinks, I looked everyone up and down, analyzing, looking for my guy. The bartender was already drinking with the customers, there were a variety of people, no one would remember us. Dean walked back from the bar with an extra drink which he handed to me.

"We doing shots already?"

"Gotta keep up appearances."

I downed my drink. I could tell that after two days on the road he was still sizing me up. And now he was judging how I made money. It was easier than hustling games. A girl beating a guy really pissed some men off, they automatically thought you were cheating. And even though technically I was misleading them, I always won fair and square. They usually ended with some jerk getting his ass beat and my ass getting thrown out of the bar. Then me having to ditch town before I even had enough for gas and food.

"Alright Dean, enough play, time to get to work."

I walked up to the bar and struck up a few conversations with the locals. For the most part they were all nice, hard-working people. I had also found my guy. He was loud, way too immaculate, spent too much time on his hair, definitely compensating. But expensive cloths and watch. I kept a conversation going with a couple of women in their mid-thirties who were defiantly here just to drink and get picked up. Unfortunately for them, they left their purses a little too far open.

The bar was three sides of a rectangle and he was sitting about half way down the long side, talking louder than necessary. When he talked to people he acted bigger, tried to pillar over them, with the women sitting near him he would invade their space. Dominant personality, definitely egotistical. At this point he was just confirming that he needed to be taken down a few pegs.

He raised his head and looked my way, as I had been watching him it wasn't hard to do the awkward look back down and smile. I looked back up under my lashes. He smirked and looked like a predator that had just gotten a wiff of its next meal. Internally I rolled my eyes, some men just made this way too easy.

The bartender came over, "This drink is from the guy down the bar."

"Thanks"

"For what its worth, you should stay away from him. He can be a real ass. We have had trouble with him before."

"I will keep that in mind."

I looked down the bar at him as I took the first sip of the drink. He winked at me and I tried my best to look embarrassed and shy. Turning my head down again. The drink was disgustingly sweet. Hard liquor and beer were definitely more my speed but I had to keep up the act while in the bar. As long as he thought he could take advantage of me, this would work.

About five minutes later and most of the drink gone I moved next to him at the bar,

"Thank you for the drink."

He looked me up and down, and I did the same now that I was closer. My short frame in heels didn't even make it to his shoulders, the guy was flat-out huge. With his persona this could put a speed bump in my night, but I could handle myself.

"No problem baby," he steered me to the seat next to him, "How about the next one you have right here."

The next couple hours were filled with bad conversation and sexual innuendos. I had been right, the car was his and he wouldn't shut up about it. To me newer muscle cars are just pieces of shit, yeah they have good motors and have newer tech in them but there is nothing like the rumble of an old engine and the way that they drive.

The guy was relentless in hitting on me and had no shame. And the more he drank the more he grabbed me. As always, it was difficult to stay calm with someone in my space and I felt nauseous . I did not like people touching me. I was uncomfortable, edgy and he made my skin crawl the more that he talked and the more that he grabbed.

I continued to drink with him to keep up appearances. These people had no idea how to really drink. Eventually I started to hear and see what I wanted. His words began to slur and he was becoming progressively irritable with the men around him, especially when they would look at me. His hand would not stop grabbing my ass when I stood and my thigh when I sat.

I stood up and hissed in his ear, "Let's go."

I guided him back to the hall with the bathrooms, as I turned he slammed me against the wall and pressed his lips against mine. My skin shook with fear but I had no choice but to allow it to happen. The guy was all freaking hands and kept pushing me harder against the wall and lifting me up. I saw Dean walk by and shake his head.

My hand shifted from his ass to inside the pockets. Searching. This guy wasn't letting up, he kept pushing me towards the bathroom. As Dean walked out I made sure we bumped into him. He kept pushing me until we were almost in a stall, no fucking class whatsoever.

I pushed away, "I'm sorry, I made a mistake, I need to go."

As I turned he grabbed my rist and pulled me back hard.

"Come on, baby, you don't mean that, " He managed to slur out.

Alright, strike one. This time I shoved him a bit, "No, I need to get out of here"

This time he grabbed my whole body and pinned me against the wall, pushing himself against me, hard. Pulling at my cloths, hands sliding into my pants. You don't get a strike three with me. There was a little part of me that panicked, but I calmed myself. I ripped my leg free and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over and my fist collided with his jaw, slamming it upward. He was out cold before he hit the ground.

I looked in the mirror and mused my hair little more. I hated it, and felt disgusting, and at the same time powerful. But I began to settle, it was over.

I ran, stumbling to the bartender.

"Hey, hey. I don't know what happened but he fell in the bathroom."

The bartender jumped the bar and took off towards the bathroom. I stayed on a stool and looked distraught until the bartender came back.

"Its alright, he just passed out, drank too much."

"Thanks."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Jen eventually skipped over to where Dean and Sam were.

"So how is your night going,"

"We won about $500 at pool. They don't have a poker game going so we kept it small tonight," Dean replied to her, "So how did it go with gigantor. Heard he passed out on you."

"With a little help he passed out, couldn't understand what 'no' meant. I don't know how I did, I don't have the wallet."

Sam shook his head at me, aspirated, "So you just spent hours with a man, ditched him in a bar restroom, and didn't get a damn thing out of it?"

"Yee of little faith. I don't have the wallet. Dean would you mind reaching into your coat pocket?"

He fumbled with the outer pockets and felt the outside of his jeans and looked at Jen quizzically.

She reached out and grabbed the front and reached inside to the chest pocket pulling him closer, "Easy there," He laughed. She smiled back and rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too excited."

Jen's hand came back out with two wallets that neither or them recognized, a money clip and a wad of cash.

Dean looked impressed, "Your good, how the hell did you do it?"

She slipped the stuff back into his pockets, "When I bumped into you heading out of the bathroom and when you passed on the way in."

"I never felt a thing."

"You weren't supposed to. I have had a lot of practice."

It was Sam's turn to talk, "Not to state the obvious, but where did the other two come from?"

"Oh, those. The other wallet came from one of the guys that had it sticking way too far out his back pocket. The insurance salesman who left about an hour ago. The money clip is from the one guy with the band t-shirt that kept trying to cop a feel at the bar, he just pissed me off. And the cash came from the two crazy cat ladies' purses at the end of the bar."

"Not too bad."

"Not too, bad , Dean? Really?", Sam said, "She's a thief."

"Sammy how is that any different from what we do with credit cards. And we have stole our fair share of stuff."

They spent the rest of the night drinking and playing pool and darts. Jen kept up with them in pool and ended up losing by one shot to Sam but beat Dean in the game after . In darts she flat-out kicked their asses.

They left at last call, Sam with the keys. Dean passed the stuff back to Jen in the back seat, she counted everything out. There was almost a grand and a half in cash.

"Oh, Dean I almost forgot."

Jen tossed a black wallet up to the front seat.

"What the hell..."

He opened it up and it was a cop's badge from a few towns over.

"Snagged it off the five'o that came in late and left. Figured you guys had some use for it."

"Nice grab. Officer Washington, huh? I'm sure we will use it."

Sam pulled out of the lot and drove them back to the motel. Jen passed out on her bed, the boys went back to their room and Dean fell right asleep. Sam stayed up, still searching for a hunt, within a half hour he had found one. But Sam still had other business to attend to. Once Dean was fast asleep Sam rummaged through Dean's bag until he found what he was looking for. Sam looked at it and couldn't believe what he saw, quickly he replaced it.

"Wake up Dean, let's go."

Dean moaned in protest.

"I need my four hours."

"You can sleep on the road. I will go get Jen."

He walked down the front of the motel and knocked on her door. He heard the rustle of blankets and when the door opened he saw the gun in her hand get placed in the back of her pants. A true hunter, calm but prepared.

"Where are we going?"

"Hibbing, Minnesota."

"Well at least we are already in the right state. Give me five minutes."

Sam, though bitter about the circumstances, accepted the fact that Jen was staying with them. The letter from dad explained Dean's cryptic reason for bringing her along, the orders weren't clear but Dean wouldn't chance something this big on interpretation. Hell, Sam wasn't even sure he wouldn't have made the same decision now. All he knew were tat the words on that page were going to haunt him until he knew what they meant. The five simple words in Dad's hand...

_She will save you both_

_**A/N=In this chapter we are introduced to the very questionable way that Jen makes enough money to hunt. Even though she has other motives, which will be revealed, I though that this was a little more realistic for how a woman, on her own, would have to get ahold of spare cash. A woman flat out beating a man at a bar would cause a lot of trouble and she wouldn't be able to stick around long enough to make it worth her while. After this chapter the FanFic will follow the basic outline Supernatural Series and their cases along the way.**_


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